REELING AND WRITHING XIII: THE WIT AND WISDOM OF IAGO

REELING AND WRITHING
or,
Miss Dermark's 2015 Advent Calendar

DAY THIRTEEN

THE WIT AND WISDOM OF IAGO
or
EVEN THE MOST TWISTED VILLAIN CAN GIVE GOOD ADVICE

At the local Casa del Libro, I gave myself this nifty li'l book for Christmas a year ago:

The Wit and Wisdom of Tyrion Lannister compiles the Imp's wittiest and cleverest sayings. Short and to the point, like Tyrion himself.

Now... As I read Othello, both Shakespeare's, Verdi's, and Kalbeck's versions, time after time, I came to the conclusion that Iago has some clever quips and remarks to match the Imp's.

Anyway, if the Imp has gathered oodles of reflections on human nature from his vantage point, Iago is no stranger to this realm either. Here are some of his most lifelike reflections:

• And who is it that says I play the villain, when the advice I give is so good, so wise, and so effective?
• What wound did ever heal but by degrees? 
• We work by wit, not by magic; and wit depends on dilatory time.
• Though other things grow fair against the sun, the fruits that blossom first will first be ripe.
• Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.
• Our bodies are gardens, and our wills are the gardeners. It's up to you whether you grow lettuce or nettles, whether you raise thyme / time or weed it up (this one inspired Voltaire!).
• Equals attract: clever and attractive young people prefer partnerships with clever and attractive young people.
• Nowadays, promotions are given out of favouritism, and not paying attention to the candidates' merits and first-hand experience.
• We cannot be all leaders, and all leaders cannot be truly followed either. 
• You'll see many a knee-bending knave, that doting on his own obsequious bondage, wears out their time for decades until, grown too old, they're finally fired. Whip me such "honest" knaves. There are others who, keeping a façade of duty, keep yet their hearts attending to themselves,  throwing but signs of service through their lords, concealing their true intentions, and well thrive by those means. To the latter class I belong, and I'm fiercely proud of it. In following him (Othello), I follow only myself; not for love and duty, but seeming so, for my personal end.
• Though I hate that person (Othello / Cassio) as I hate hell's pains, I must show out a flag of love, which is but a sign - I will not wear my heart upon my sleeve for crows to peck at. I am not what I am!
• Why do I employ a foolish henchman? 'Cause I'd be wasting my skills dealing with a twit like that if I were spending time with him... if it weren't for fun and profit.
• Though I have slain men during wartime, I am very restrained by my conscience to do contrived murder; I lack the iniquity sometimes to do me service... Nine or ten times, I have thought of stabbing him under the ribs.
• (Upon being asked to sing Desdemona's praises) I am nothing but a critic. My imagination is as dense as runny honey; coming up with verses or stories of my own plucks out the brains from my skull.
• I have looked upon this world for four times seven years, and, since I first learned to distinguish a benefit from an injury, I have never found anyone who knew how to love themselves.
• Drown youself? Drown kittens! Rather than drown myself for love, I would exchange my humanity with a baboon.
• Trifles as light as air are, to the jealous, proof as strong as sacred texts.
• If there ever were an absolutely perfect proper lady, she would only be fit for being a tavern wench.
• One should be what one seems; and, as for those who were not what they seemed, would they seem not!
• Whenever devils put on their darkest sins, they show a heavenly, angelic first impression.
• There are many decent and hard-working, never-give-up-plucky people who, having grown too old (or old-fashioned) or disabled, are bereft of their means and left in precarious positions.
• Beware of jealousy; it's a green-eyed monster that plays with its food before it eats.
• Utter my thoughts? Why, they are wicked... Where's that palace where courtly intrigue and corruption never have entered? Who has a heart so pure, if not for those unclean apprehensions that keep court in there together with reasonable reflections? Perhaps my guess is not the best one... I confess; it's my besetting sin to meddle in others' affairs, and often my jealousy shapes things that are not. It's neither for your quiet or your good, nor for my own honesty or wisdom, that you should know my thoughts. You cannot know what I'm thinking, neither if my heart were in your hands nor if I kept it myself.
• Suspicions are by nature poisons; at first they only make one wince upon tasting them, but once they hit the bloodstream, they burn like wildfire.
• (To Cassio about his wife, whom the lieutenant has been right-hand-kissing) If she gave you as much of her lips as she gives me of her tongue, you'd have enough. She has no speech? In faith, she has too much; I even hear her voice while I'm trying to sleep.
• Why, the Englishman drinks your Dane dead as easily as you please, he sweats not to drink your Kraut under the table...
• The best conscience of promiscuous women is not to leave it undone, but to keep it unknown.
• (Of a drunken Cassio to another officer): He's a fellow fit of having served Julius Caesar, and do but see his flaw; it's to his virtue a perfect equinox, the one as long as the other. I fear the trust Othello puts him in. This is how he always lulls himself to sleep; he'd wake for two hours if drink didn't rock his cradle. I love Cassio well, and I would do anything to cure him of this evil...
• I cannot speak any beginning to this incident (the drunken fight), and would I have lost in action glorious both of these legs that brought me to a part of it! I would rather have my tongue cut out than do any offence to Cassio; yet, I persuade myself, if I told you the truth, nothing shall wrong him.
• Anyone can get wasted any now and then. It's all right and even healthy to have strong drink, only if it's drunk the right way, responsibly.
• If the scales of our lives had no plate of reason to balance the one of sensuality, our very blood and instinctive nature would lead us towards preposterous conclusions. Luckily, we have reason to cool our raging, burning, unfettered lusts.
• Take note, oh monstruous world, that being straightforward and honest is not safe. I thank you for this profit, and from hence I'll love no friend, since love breeds such offence.
• I will turn her (Desdemona's) virtue into pitch black tar, and make out of her goodness the trap that will ensnare them all.
• (To a hungover, demoted Cassio) Reputation is a most false construct; often attained without merit, and lost without deserving either. You haven't lost any reputation at all, unless you repute yourself such a loser.
• (To Othello about his own -Iago's- intrusive thoughts) A good name is the jewel of anyone's self. Whoever steals my purse steals rubbish, it's nothing I can't get back again -the better for the one who got rewarded with the theft-; but if someone would filch my reputation, neither the thief nor I would find any gain at all in that.
• Thus credulous fools are caught, and, all worthy and guiltless, meet reproach.
• It's the spite of hell, the Evil One's ultimate jest, to wed and bed a wench, a wanton, and to suppose her chaste!
• It is not honesty in me to speak what I have seen and known. You should better watch yourselves how things unfold.
• This final act (assassinating Cassio) either makes us or breaks us. Think of that and steel your resolve!
• Whether Roderigo kills Cassio or Cassio kills Roderigo, every way makes my gain, this is for me a win-win; if Roderigo lives, he will force me to give him back the gold and jewellery he offered me "as gifts for Desdemona;" should Cassio remain, he has this daily beauty in his life that makes me ugly, and the General would unmask me before him... No, he, Cassio, must die.
• (As they carry a wounded Cassio to the surgeon) This is the night that either makes me or fordoes me quite.
• (To Emilia, as she reveals the truth) I told him what I thought, and nothing more than what he found himself to be true.
• (The last words he says in the play, as he is arrested) Demand me nothing. You know what you know. From this time on, I will never speak word.

(From the opera libretto): 

• If the fragile vow of a lady is not too hard a nut to crack for my wits or for hell itself, I swear that your darling shall be yours, cradled in your arms.
• When I am tipsy, the world throbs, and I defy the ironies of destiny!
• Flee from the vivid cup if you are cowards whose hearts conceal deception.
• Down the throat leads the way to the heart.
• I believe in a cruel god, who made me an ape in his own image, and I am born out of the vileness of germs. I am wicked because I am human and feel the original mud within myself.
• And then, after a lifetime of derision, death stabs all of us in the back. And then? Death is nothingness, and heaven is an old wives' tale. So, after death, all the foolish fun is over.